Changing the Dynamic
by Takada Saiko
Summary: There have been a lot of changes since Liz was framed by the Cabal, but possibly the strangest one is how Donald Ressler has come to view Tom Keen. Tessler bromance. Series of one-shots set during current episodes through near future.
1. Changing the Dynamic

_Tell me are the people strange?  
_

 _Do they change?_

 _Gamble Everything for Love,_ Ben Lee (ending song on the Director Pt1)

 **Changing the Dynamic**

The hacking cough hadn't started until the night before, but it had kept him up all night long. It made focusing on what he needed to focus on nearly impossible. The way his head felt full of cotton and his nose just wouldn't stop, leaving him alternating between sneezing and coughing, put him behind the schedule he'd predicted for Cooper. At least all the footwork was done. Anything else could be researched from the tiny little apartment he had rented out when he'd finally admitted to himself that he wasn't going anywhere and that he all but worked as a contractor for the FBI. Not officially, of course, but this wasn't the first job Cooper had asked him to look into, but if he didn't pull himself together and get it done, it might be the last.

A sneeze nearly toppled him out of his chair and Jacob Phelps groaned loudly as he fell forward, his forehead thumping against the desk in front of him and the pressure deep in his ears immediately increased, making him dizzy even though he should have been fairly stable where he was. He had to pull himself together and get this done or he wouldn't have all the information by the time Cooper dropped by to get it.

Jacob jumped up suddenly at the sound of a loud knock at his front door, the room spinning dangerously as his equilibrium was thrown and he stumbled towards it, nearly finding himself with his nose pressed to the carpet. Somehow he made it though, and braced himself against the wall for a moment as he caught his breath, refusing to give into another coughing fit.

The second knock made him jump again and he glared at it, looking out the hole to see a face he wouldn't have expected. "Why do you know where I live?" he grumbled raspily as he tugged the door open.

Donald Ressler had a scowl fixed on his face. "Cooper said you had some intel for us this evening."

"Yeah, this evening, not this afternoon," Jacob snapped, turning back around and doing his best not to sway noticeably. How was he supposed to get anything done if Ressler decided to show up and interrupt him?

"It's nearly seven," the fed answered, causing Jacob to turn to look at the clock, the blurry numbers finally coming into focus as he squinted at them and he loosed a breath. When had that happened?

Ressler cleared his throat. "You okay?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Well you look like hell," the older man said bluntly, quirking an eyebrow.

"I'm fine, just… under the weather a little," Jacob answered as he sniffed, finally spotting his glasses on the counter. _That's_ where he'd left them. The contacts had proven unbearable as soon as his eyes had started drying out. He set them back on his nose and shuffled back over to the computer.

"You look more than a little under the weather."

"What are you, my doctor?"

"You've got one of those?"

"No."

Ressler snorted and it might have been something like a laugh if the Boy Scout knew how to. Jacob tried to focus on the screen that was blurring dangerously even with the lenses correcting his vision. It shifted and it felt a little bit like the world was moving beneath him, threatening to topple him off the chair. The last thing he wanted was for Liz's partner to see him sick as a dog. Not that he was sick. Nope. This was just an allergy attack. That's it. He'd be fine as soon as he had some sleep, and he could do that as soon as he was done.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, steadying him, and he hadn't realized how close to toppling over he'd come. "You're burning up," Ressler murmured with a frown. "How sick are you?"

"'m not," Jacob argued. "Listen, I just need maybe an hour-"

"The world's not going to end if we don't get this in first thing in the morning. Trust me, we're working on half a dozen different threads in this case. Yours important, but not that important. Are you taking anything?"

"It makes my head fuzzy."

"Yeah, because it's not right now."

Jacob looked up from his place in his computer chair, doing his best to glare at Ressler, but the man seemed half amused and half… worried? Surely not. They had managed to get to a point that they weren't ready to shoot each other, but that hardly made him friends. Anyway, Jacob didn't have friends. He wasn't entirely sure he knew how to make real ones.

Ressler moved after a moment and Jacob heard him rummaging through his medicine cabinet. "Do you just not take anything ever?"

He opened his mouth to respond, but only a cough came out and by the end of the fit he was doubled over in the chair, holding on to the edge of the desk for support. He felt a hand straighten him out again and ease him to his feet. He wasn't sure exactly where they were going until he blinked and saw his bed come slowly into focus. "You good?" Ressler asked and he managed a nod before the shorter man helped ease him into the bed.

Jacob curled up on his side, shivering and coughing, and felt the covers come up over him. "If I tell you you should probably see a doctor-"

"I hate doctors," he managed.

"Yeah, of course you do." He heard a sigh and some movement, but he didn't dare shift to see what was happening. He needed to find a way to get up and to get back to tying the last pieces of the puzzle he'd promised to get Cooper together before he slept, but he just couldn't manage it. It was like his entire body was in full rebellion against him.

He heard Ressler grumbling from somewhere outside the room and finally he came back in and stuck a thermometer in his mouth that he wasn't even sure he remembered buying, threatening him if he spit it back out before the timer beeped off. He held it there until it made an obnoxious sound, and it was pulled away from him. "Damn," Ressler breathed and he felt his glasses leave his nose. He blinked his eyes back open, finding a blurry figure putting them on the nightstand. "Get some sleep."

Jacob tried to tell him that he had a job to do and that he'd sleep when it was finished, but he took one breath in and the cough took over. When he was done, he curled into his pillow and didn't have the energy to argue as he finally drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Ressler wasn't sure what he had expected in the way of living arrangements when Cooper had asked him to drop by Tom Keen's - no, he reminded himself, the man's real name was Jacob Phelps - apartment and pick up what he had of the intel they needed for the case. He hadn't expected the little one bedroom apartment that actually looked lived in. There was food in the kitchen, dishes stacked in the sink with the little dial on the washer moved over to _clean_ , and books on the table next to the small couch. There wasn't a lot, but it certainly looked like Jacob planned to stay. He'd said he would, but Ressler distrusted most everything that came out of the man's mouth as a rule.

Finding him sick had certainly been a surprise, but one that he found that he couldn't just ignore. He'd gotten him into bed and had run down the street to the corner store to buy up what he did not have in his medicine cabinets, which was just about everything.

He had gotten Jacob roused just enough to take the pills - after an argument he only understood every third or so word of because of how raspy his speech was after all the coughing - before he flopped back down into the bed and was out again. It was strange seeing him like that. He'd known the man as the dorky, bespeckled husband of his partner that had taught fourth grade, as the man that had ripped Liz's life apart, and then finally as a man that had been willing to give up everything to help her get that life back. Now he just looked miserable, curled up under thin blankets and shivering like crazy, coughing and tossing and turning. Ressler hadn't seen him in a couple of weeks and Liz didn't make a habit of talking about him unless asked. He wasn't sure if that was because the two didn't see each other often or she felt she would be judged for seeing him too much. It really could have been either. She wasn't there that night, though, and Ressler thought that he had heard she and Samar talk about a much-needed girl's night out.

Jacob hadn't roused again after Ressler had all but forced the pills down his throat and the FBI agent had meant to head home. He didn't, though, and somehow found himself on a couch that wasn't overly comfortable, being woken every twenty minutes or so to the sounds of coughing from the other room.

By the time the sun rose, he didn't even want to know if he'd had a consecutive hour's sleep. He felt draggy and somewhat thick-headed himself, but managed to haul himself off the couch and to the kitchen to search cabinets and find something he could easily put together. He was halfway through heating up the oatmeal in the microwave when he heard shuffling from the room and a moment later Jacob came trudging out. He stopped halfway to the kitchen, blinked hard, squinted as if he remembered that he'd walked out without his glasses, and frowned. "What the hell are you still doing here?" he demanded.

"Making sure you didn't die in your sleep," Ressler answered evenly.

Jacob stared at him for a long moment, as if he were trying to get a read on him, but couldn't quite get his brain to work the way it should. Finally he offered a shrug. "Please tell me you've put coffee on already."

"I couldn't find it."

"That's because you didn't look," the younger man groused, shuffling past him and to a cabinet. He pulled a plastic box out with coffee grounds in it and started shoveling it into the machine.

When the oatmeal was done Ressler handed it over and started on a second bowl. Jacob looked at the offered food like it might bite him. "Why?"

"Why what?"

He crunched his nose up in a way that made him look twelve for half a moment and then turned his gaze back on him. "Wasn't that yours?"

"And then you woke up. Looking at these dishes, you haven't actually eaten anything in… days."

Jacob followed his gaze and frowned. "I haven't felt well."

"No kidding. Eat the damn oatmeal."

He watched the dark haired man take the offered food and move over to the table to sit and eat it. The second bowl finished up and he took it out, moving to take a seat as well as the coffee finished brewing. The two men sat in silence with only the occasional half-swallowed cough to interrupt it. Ressler stood once he'd finished, went into the bathroom and got the pills he'd forced down his partner's ex-husband's throat the night before, and set them on the table. "I have things that need to get done today. Take one of these now, one at dinner. You need to eat with it. Get some rest." He didn't wait for Jacob to respond, but put the bowl in the sink and left him to it.

When he came back, it was only to check to see if he'd finished his project. Not that he could have called or anything. Her certainly wasn't going back to his apartment to check on him.

Jacob looked a little better that afternoon and he handed Ressler the file almost immediately as he entered. "Should be everything," he rasped.

Ressler nodded, took it, and then watched the other man turn and shuffle immediately back to bed, crawling under the covers and pulling them nearly fully over him. Ressler shook his head. Well, at least he wasn't dead. "You need anything?"

The younger man shook his head and curled up even deeper into his space he had made for himself.

Ressler reached over, pressing the back of his hand to his forehead, and thought his fever had dropped at least a little. "Hey, there's some soup that Liz said you liked when you're sick. It's on the counter. She may drop by this evening to check on you. Stupid question, but you have my cell number, right? Will you call if you need anything?"

He heard a sound that might have been an affirmative and he shook his head. "You're more trouble than you're worth," he murmured, but his tone didn't quite match the words. He'd seen the man for so long as he'd wanted to be seen. The personas that he projected were defenses, but the more time he spent around his partner's ex-husband, the more he'd come to find that he was surprisingly reliable and strangely loyal when he chose to be. They were characteristics he would have respected in any other man, so why not Jacob Phelps?

He paused, risking one last look back. Despite everything that had happened, it looked like somehow the respect was already there. He hated to admit it, but Jacob was growing on him.

"Thanks."

He barely heard the word, but as Ressler stepped closer he found a pair of blurry blue eyes on him from where he was buried beneath everything. Liz's time on the run and the fight against the Cabal had changed the dynamic of their team and those that surrounded it so much, but he had never expected this. It might not be official yet, but the former operative was working his way closer and closer to a place on their team. Given time, Ressler thought Cooper might even make a formal offer, and wouldn't that be strange?

"For what?" he asked after a moment.

Jacob offered what might have been an intimidating glare any other time and Ressler smirked. "You're welcome."

* * *

End.

Notes: So, it was very odd getting out of my Everything Back to You-styled Tessler headspace to write this, but the idea struck and after Thursday's episode I really wanted to a bit of canon-based Tessler. I'm sure there will be more, and if there are, I may actually change this into a collection of canon-based Tessler one-shots. Would anyone be interested in that?


	2. Distractions

Notes: AlyB123 gave me the prompt of Jacob and Ress working out in the gym, so of course it turns into a boxing match. Not that these two are competitive or anything. Set between The Director part 1 and part 2.

 **Distractions**

It was late, and if he had any sense at all he would have curled up and gone to sleep the moment Cooper had come on board to give him a few hours' relief on Karakurt watch duty. Apparently Jacob didn't have any sense, because he found himself walking down the street towards a gym he knew would be open. It wasn't like he could have slept if he had tried. He needed something to take his mind off the situation for at least a few minutes.

He pushed the door to the gym open and found it deserted for the most part, which was what he had hoped for at that hour. He tossed his bag into an open shelf, pulled his wraps from it, and started tugging them loose as he made it over to a heavyweight bag.

Movement caught his attention as he started to wrap his wrists and he shifted his weight to look around and see a figure already beating on another bag a few feet away. Donald Ressler had earbuds in, and if he'd seen Jacob enter he hadn't said anything. His expression was entirely focused as he hit the bag without letting up. His motions were steady and seemed to be increasing with power with each swing.

It swung around hard and Ressler must have spotted him because he turned an irritated look on the dark haired man as he pulled the earbuds from their place. "You following me, Keen?"

"Nope. Just needed to let off some steam while Cooper's on babysitting duty. I wouldn't have pegged you for a boxer."

Ressler offered him an exasperated look. "It's pretty basic in FBI training."

Jacob quirked an eyebrow. "Could have fooled me when you and I went at on Cooper's lawn."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Ressler demanded as he reached for his water bottle.

"You were all rage and no control," Jacob answered with a shrug, finishing up his wraps. He purposefully turned his back in the agent and started in on his own workout, going at it without the gloves.

"I have plenty of control," Ressler huffed.

"Okay." He wasn't sure what it was, but there was something entertaining about getting under the man's skin. It wasn't smart, he knew. They were technically allies at that moment, but Jacob couldn't resist pushing his buttons.

"What do you know about control?" the other man groused and Jacob swung around, leg connecting solidly with the bag and sent it swinging.

"Kind of a necessity in my life."

"Except when it comes to Keen." Jacob bristled a little at that and Ressler shot him a smug look. "What about another round?"

"You mean where we're not actually trying to break each other's necks? Why not? I'm guessing you want gloves?"

"I'd rather not show up to defend Liz tomorrow with a shiner. That'll at least help."

"That's fair." Jacob stopped over at the desk and grabbed a pair of spare gloves before joining his ex-wife's partner in the ring. "I don't have to ask if you've got people you trust watching her while you're here, right?"

"That would be a really stupid question," Ressler answered and took the first swing.

Jacob bobbed out of the way. "Says the man that alerted the Cabal where we were."

Ressler snorted and ducked under a blow. "I trusted the wrong person. That's not happening again."

"Good to know."

"You were a lot faster last time."

"I haven't gotten much sleep lately." Jacob ducked under a blow, rolling around so that he was behind the other man, and caught him in the gut as he turned.

Ressler coughed hard, but managed to pull back before the next one landed. "What sort of training does someone like you have?"

"Someone like me?" Jacob echoed with a smirk.

"That works for someone like the Major."

Ressler caught him with a solid blow to the jaw and he had to shake it off before he answered. "I don't work for him anymore."

Ressler quirked an eyebrow. "Do people like that just let you walk?"

"No. There's a reason I couldn't stick around once I though Liz had what she needed to clear her name. He tried to put a bullet in my head last time I saw him."

"Some boss. Remind me again why you'd work for someone like that?"

Jacob shrugged, barely missing the blow because of the motion. "He raised me."

Ressler paused at that and Jacob had to pull the punch not to slam into him and break his nose even with the glove. "What?"

"Nothing."

They didn't speak again for a few minutes, but instead exchanged blows back and forth until they were both worn down. Jacob ducked out from between the ropes and started peeling his gloves off. He was reaching for his bag when Ressler's voice stopped him.

"Thanks."

"For what?"

The FBI agent shifted where he stood. "Taking my mind off of it."

"Right back at you."

"Why are you back, Tom? I mean… I've seen the lengths you'll go now, but… Why are you sticking around with this guy after you? We could probably take it from here."

"I'm not going anywhere until I know she's safe. I love her."

"I think you must have a really warped understanding of that phrase."

"Maybe," he answered softly and shrugged his jacket on. It wasn't like he had a lot of experience with it. "But it doesn't make it untrue. I love her, and I'll do whatever it takes to protect her." He risked a glance at the other man who stood there staring at him. Liz's partner. Jacob wasn't blind. Ressler might not have admitted it to himself yet, but it was obvious how he felt about her, and sooner or later the Boy Scout would figure that out too and Liz would choose. In one corner there was the idiot that had screwed everything up and hadn't realized just what he had until she was gone, but in the other was the one-man-justice-league himself. If Jacob were honest with himself - and there were so many reasons he really didn't like to be - he worried that he'd done too much damage to repair, and that would leave Ressler to rush in to save her in the final moments. He should hate him for it. It would be easier to hate him, but he was pretty sure Liz wouldn't like that. "Keep her safe tomorrow. Cooper and I'll have Karakurt there on time."

Thankfully Ressler just nodded. "Get some sleep. You look like hell."

Jacob smirked. "Not as bad as you. Night." He turned and started back towards the docks. He might get a solid three hours' sleep if he tried. It'd be better than nothing, and he needed to be at his best the next day. It was going to take all of them to protect Liz.


	3. Loving Her

**Loving Her**

It had started as a casual drink between them and had somehow gone from there. Liz had needed a breather from the aftermath of everything - a new apartment, consulting for the task force, trying to figure out where she was and if she could pick the pieces of her life back up to fit them back into some symbolance of a whole - and Jacob had been more than happy to provide that for her. It had started to rain while they were in the bar and she had gotten it in her head that they needed to walk through it.

Jacob felt a smile that just wouldn't stop taking hold as he paid their tab and had to pick up the pace to catch up with her. He was relaxed, a slight buzz easing some of his own stress away, and Liz seemed to be just a little beyond that as she took off out the front door and into the rain. Her smile was brighter than he'd seen it in a long time, and he found himself standing just under the awning in front of the bar, listening to her laugh.

Without warning Liz jumped forward, grabbed him by the wrist, and pulled him out into the rain with her. "Come on. You used to love walking in the rain."

"Still do," he answered with a grin of his own, following her down towards the street. "It just kind of washes everything away. It's nice."

Liz looped an arm through his and leaned into him as they walked. "This was nice. I had fun."

"Me too."

"No bad guys, no case. It was just… normal."

"I do miss normal," he answered.

"Really? It's not boring?" She looked up at him, a teasing sort of glint in her eyes that he hadn't seen in some time. "You have to be honest, remember."

"Are you drunk?" Jacob chuckled.

"Not so much that I don't know when you're evading," his ex wife told him certainly and he shook his head, revelling in the feeling of her next to him, her arm through his, and her fingers curled around so that they were loosely clutching the sleeve of his shirt.

"Boring is nice after everything," he answered honestly. "It's…. a chance to breathe, I guess. I think I'm about done with getting shot at and stabbed and whatever else people that don't like me want to do."

She gave a soft laugh and stopped, pulling him to a stop as well. She was looking up at him, her nose wrinkling a little with the rain hitting her face, and she was studying him carefully. He let her, doing his best to keep his expression open and as honest as he knew how, and before he knew it she had tipped up on her toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "I've missed this."

"Me too." He had been so careful not to cross the line. He didn't want to push her. This needed to be her decision all the way or she would backtrack at the first sign of trouble. He knew her, and he knew it was true, but even as he reminded himself of that - repeating it over and over again in his mind like a mantra - her fingers touched the side of his face and he felt his eyes slip closed, leaning in.

"Keen?"

And all at once the moment was shattered. Jacob turned sharply, lobbing his best and meanest glare towards his ex wife's former partner and doing his best to ignore the way her expression lit. "Ressler!" She let go of Jacob and her grin didn't fade. "What are you doing here?"

Donald Ressler stood with his umbrella up and a disapproving look etched into his face like it might never leave. In his hand was a bag, a few groceries peeking out over the top. "There's a store I like a few blocks that way. It has those treats that Hudson liked so well. I thought I'd pick a few up for next time you needed me to watch him."

"Thanks. He'll need to come visit soon. I think he misses you."

"It's been quiet without him. Do you, uh, need my umbrella? You're soaked."

"I wanted to walk in the rain," she told him matter of factly.

Ressler glanced past her to Jacob. "You guys been out drinking?" he asked carefully, and Jacob couldn't help but think that somehow he was getting the blame for her tipsiness.

"Liz needed a break from all the unpacking, so we thought we'd go for some drinks," he said easily, offering a nonchalant shrug.

The agent snorted and Jacob rolled his eyes. "Seriously? Is that a crime now?"

"You should come next time, Ress," Liz offered.

"Thanks, but I don't think I want to encourage _this_ ," Ressler answered, motioning between them.

He shouldn't let him get under his skin, but as much as Jacob liked to push Ressler's buttons, the older man seemed to manage to do the same to him easily enough. "I didn't know we needed your permission."

"No one said that you did. Liz knows I think you're a bad idea in general, but hey, no one asked me."

"Well, at least she knows where _I_ stand," Jacob snapped, the alcohol loosening his tongue just enough to be troublesome.

"Excuse me?"

Jacob squared his shoulders, but felt Liz's hand on his arm. "Stop," she said quietly, the lightness in her voice gone now. "Tom - _Jacob_ \- please don't. You two have been doing so good. Don't start this tonight, please."

Every muscle remained tense as the two men glared at each other and finally Liz snorted. "Fine. You know what, when you two decide to start acting your ages, let me know, huh?" She turned and stormed off, every bit of playfulness washing away and leaving the barriers that Jacob had been so happy were coming down. They were back, thanks to Boy Scout. Somehow the man always knew just how to get on his nerves.

Ressler snorted, drawing his attention directly to him. "You really are something."

"Me?" Jacob growled. "Are you _serious_?"

"I don't know what you think you know about me, but this is all your doing. You can't push the blame off on me."

"Of course not, because you've _never_ done anything that's gotten Liz in trouble."

Ressler bristled at the insinuation. "I did the best I could with the information I had," he snapped, taking an aggressive step forward.

"Right, I forget, you're the perfect little Boy Scout. Everything you do or touch is golden. Sorry about that."

"At least I didn't lie to her-"

"Bullshit!" Jacob snapped, giving the federal agent a rough shove. "What the hell do you think you're doing right now?"

Ressler dropped the bag and his umbrella as if he were readying himself for a fight in the street. "You don't know-"

"I know more than you're willing to admit. I see the way you look at her. I'm not stupid and neither is she. You're her best friend, and until you man up and say something to her, she'll never be able to make a choice."

"Choice?" Ressler echoed, blinking hard in the rain.

"You really are a selfish bastard, aren't you?" Jacob growled, shaking his head and running a hand through his dark hair. "You know what? You're not worth it." Liz was upset and angry, and he needed to focus on her, not his own irritations with her partner. She needed him in whatever capacity she'd let him be there for her. He'd failed her too many times, had not been there too many times, and _this_ time, he wasn't going to screw it up.

He turned his back on the gawking agent and started down the road the Liz had stormed off just a few moments before. He hadn't gotten more than a few yards away and was passing the corner of a shop on the side of the road when he heard a small voice, almost lost to the rain. "Tom?"

Jacob stopped dead in his tracks and turned. She was standing in the rain, her eyes a little bloodshot and he could see the tears mixing in with the water from the sky. Her brows drew together in the way that they did when she was trying so very, very hard to hold herself together, and he stepped forward and reached a hand out to her, the offer there.

Liz pushed off the wall and latched onto him, her arms around his middle and her face pressed against his chest. They stood in the rain like that, his arms around her protectively and he stroked her wet hair. "I'm sorry."

"Me too. I heard," she admitted, her voice breaking. "You know."

"Of course I know," he answered after a moment, his own voice wavering a little.

"Do you hate me?"

"Never." He chewed a little on his bottom lip, weighing his question before finally risking it. "Do you love him?"

"I don't know," she answered, her voice a little raw with the honesty. "I… care about him. A lot."

Jacob nodded slowly and he had never known something could hurt like this. He should have. It had felt like daggers the day that he realized that he'd lost her. This, though, after fighting so hard and having that glimmer of hope grow… this was almost unbearable. He released her carefully and offered a tight smile. "It's okay. I know… I know what I am, Liz. I know what I've done, and I don't blame you. You deserve to be happy. I won't get in your way."

She stared at him for a moment before the tears started falling again. "You idiot. I care about you too. That's… That's the problem."

Dark blue eyes blinked hard. "I don't…"

She reached up, her fingers against his chin in an old and familiar gesture between them. "I care about you both. I may even love you both. I don't know. So much has happened and I don't feel like I've had a chance to really wrap my mind around one thing before the next terrible thing piles in on top of it. This is… this is the first chance I've had since Reddington showed up at the Post Office to actually _try_ to sort through it without feeling like I might drown under it all. I know it's not fair, but… but I don't know how it's going to end, but I don't want you to go. I just can't promise you anything."

Jacob closed his eyes, leaning into her touch. "I don't know what it's like to love more than one person, Lizzie. Until you, I didn't know what it was like to love one. I thought… it seemed really far fetched, you know? That idea that you could give everything for someone else. I didn't understand it until you, and even then I didn't get it right. I'm trying, babe." The nickname that he hadn't used in well over a year now left his lips barely in a whisper. "I'm trying to love you the way you deserve."

She tried for a smile and he saw her gaze flicker behind him. He turned slowly, already knowing who must have been standing there, and Ressler was drenched by then, his umbrella and the groceries forgotten. He looked a little lost, like he knew he should follow her but had no idea what to say when he got there.

"Jacob, I've got to-"

"I know," he said softly, offering a weak excuse for a smile.

"You're not going to just… disappear, are you?" she asked hesitantly.

"No," he promised. "I won't go until you tell me to. Just… if you know-"

"You'll be one of the first to know."

He nodded and stepped around her, risking one last glance behind him as she moved towards Ressler.

* * *

Jacob had always known that it was a possibility. He had known that Ressler had feelings for Liz. It was blatantly obvious to everyone but the Boy Scout himself, and he knew his wife - _ex_ wife - well enough to know she cared deeply for him as well. The fact that she wasn't sure which one she cared about more wasn't reassuring. Just as he'd said, Jacob knew what he was.

He was a killer. A criminal. An amoral person at his very best. It didn't matter that he was trying to change. It could very easily be too little, too late. Liz deserved the best of everything, and when you put Jacob Phelps - the street punk that had grown into a trained operative that could snap a man's neck without flinching - next to the likely decorated one-man-justice league that was Donald Ressler… Jacob wasn't a fool. In love. Desperately, painfully in love, but not a fool.

Sluggishly he motioned to the bartender to refill his glass and he leaned forward, exhausted beyond reason. He prefered an enemy he could box with, but this was something he had no experience with. He had spent his youngest years trying desperately to match what people expected him to feel, the majority of the years after just playing the part, but here and now, he knew what they meant by heartbreak, and he didn't even know for sure he'd lost her again. Just the thought was enough to break him to pieces.

"I'll have what he's having."

Dark blue eyes slid to the right and he saw Donald Ressler settle on the bench next to him. "Can't you just leave me in peace?"

"You found some of that? At least one of us did," the agent groused and the bartender pushed his whiskey across the bar. "Thanks."

"You and Liz talk?"

"Yeah. It sucks."

Jacob blinked hard, wondering if he was further gone than he'd realized. "What?"

Ressler quirked an eyebrow. "I've been…. I guess I've known for a while about Liz. Maybe not to the extent, but on some level I knew. I couldn't say anything when she was my partner, so I ignored it. Then she went on the run and it was my duty, my _job-_ " he gave a mirthless chuckle, neither man missing the irony of that- "to bring her in. We haven't even figured out what our new normal is yet."

"If you're expecting me to comfort you, you need to find another barstool," Jacob groused.

The other man snorted. "Liz told me what you did. What you said. I wouldn't have believed it if she hadn't."

"About what?"

He paused, and Jacob watched his gaze focus in on something small on the bar. "Being willing to walk like that. You know, I thought I had you figured out for the longest time, but each time that I think I do something else happens. I would have thought that'd you'd try to talk her out of it, manipulate her, anything. That's what you do, isn't it?"

"She deserves better than that," Jacob said quietly.

"See, that's what I mean. I keep looking for the angle." Ressler tilted his drink back, taking a long sip. "The more I'm around you, though, the more I'm worried you're actually being straight about this. I don't know if that means you've fooled me too or…"

"What's your point, Ressler?" the younger man snapped. "Because unless you have one, I'd really like to wallow for a little while. I don't do it often, but when I do I like to do it alone, and not with the man that's in love with my wife."

"Ex wife. She's your…." Ressler shook his head, a short laugh escaping him and he sighed. "We're both in the love with the same woman and she doesn't know which one of us she wants to be with. My point is that it sucks and I really miss the days when it was simple and I could just hate you."

Jacob tilted his head a little, studying him. "So what?"

"Nothing. It's her call. She's a big girl. She'll make whatever decision is best for her, I guess."

"I guess she will," Jacob murmured softly, his gaze focused on the amber liquid in his glass.

"For what it's worth, though, I think you may not be as bad as I thought you were."

That caused him to look up, a little started by the admission. After a moment, he shook his head. "Yeah, you either."

"What's the world coming to?"

Jacob's lips turned up just a little and he held his glass up. "It hurts like hell, but loving her's worth it. That's one of the few truths I know for sure."

Ressler clinked his own glass to Jacob's. "I'll agree with you on that." He sipped on his drink. "When did you know?"

"Know what?"

"That you loved her."

Jacob smiled, the memory playing across his mind. "That first night that we talked. I mean really talked. It wasn't a lot different than tonight. We had a few beers, we laughed, and she complained about her boyfriend. I wasn't even supposed to be that close, but every word she said drew me in a little more. I couldn't stop myself. I didn't want to. I just… wanted to know her."

Ressler nodded. "I don't know if there was just one moment for me. It was… a string of them. She was there in a way that no one else was. I don't know when she went from being my partner to my friend to… more, but she did. I'm not sure I even admitted it to myself until tonight."

The dark haired man nodded, letting the words sink it. It was strange, but even with the knowledge that the other man was in love with her, somehow he couldn't quite hate him. He didn't want Liz to choose him, of course, but it seemed like the more time he spent around him, the more he got to know him, the less he wanted to throttle him. He would have thought it would have been the direct opposite, but somehow, despite everything, he was developing a sense of respect for the other man and, unless he had somehow lost his knack for reading people, the thought that he might have somehow earned some in return.

"What's your real name, anyway?"

Jacob looked over, a little startled by the question. Ressler shot him an expectant look. "What? You think I really believe that your real name is Tom? Have I heard Liz call you Jacob?"

"Yeah," he said after a moment of hesitation, indecision making him pause just a half a beat more. "Jacob Phelps."

"I never thought you looked like a Tom," Ressler said certainly and gave him a smirk. "Anyone call you Jake?"

"No."

"No one? You have something against it?"

"Not really. No one ever has."

Ressler nodded. "You look more like a Jake than a Tom."

They talked well into the night, swapping stories of everything under the sun, from their time with the woman that they both cared for to pieces of personal history. It was strange, but in a way it helped. Thinking of Liz happy and whole left Jacob feeling a little more solid, a little less like the world could shift at any moment. He wasn't going to give up his fight for her, but at least he knew, no matter what she chose to do, she would be safe.

* * *

Notes: So I started in writing on a cute, fun Tessler piece yesterday that was requested about Jacob and Ress helping Liz move into her new place. I will finish that, but this one took hold and wouldn't let go. Apparently my brain decided to go to the sad place for both of our boys last night, and Liz too, honestly. I really need the love triangle to go in this general direction if they go there, which I'm pretty sure they will. If the writers read fanfiction, please guys? Yelling and shoving fits are great for them, and then begrudging getting-to-know-you-so-that-I'll-know-she's-safe-if-she-chooses-you after.

Excuse me as I curl up and with my box of Kleenexes. I will attempt not to write quite as many depressing one-shots. The Tessler ones should be much lighter in nature for the most part. This one just wouldn't quiet down.


	4. Boys' Night Out

**Boys' Night Out**

He had known he had been driving her nuts. It wasn't like he was doing it _intentionally_. He just worried and she had been sick for days with the flu. Sick and pregnant couldn't have been fun, so he had been doing his best to make sure she had everything she needed. Maybe he had gone just a _little_ overboard on the doting, but tossing him out of the apartment and saddling him with Donald Ressler seemed a bit extreme, even if she had claimed that it would be good for them both to get to know each other without bullets flying from every direction. Jacob wasn't sure why she was so determined. It wasn't like they had ever gotten along or really ever would. It was better if they just sort of tolerated each other at a great distance. That was safer.

If he didn't know better, he thought the ginger agent agreed with him.

Donald Ressler was busy glaring at his beer in front of him. Scowling might have been a better term, Jacob thought as he studied the other man, taking a long sip from his own beer. He didn't even seem to have the decency to hide the fact that he wanted to be _anywhere_ but there. There was a game on just in front of him, but Ressler seemed to feel the need to glare at his beverage like it had personally offended him instead.

"Is there a reason you're watching me?" he demanded.

"Just trying to figure out why you're here, really," Jacob answered, the truth rolling off his tongue easier than it should have. "I mean, I get why _I'm_ here, but-"

Ressler rolled his eyes. "I'm doing my partner a favour. Apparently you need to be babysat so she can get some rest without you pestering her over every little thing she needs."

Jacob snorted. That was an exaggeration if he'd ever heard one. Liz had been sleeping fine. The problem was that the longer she was sick, the more irritable she got with the tiniest of noises. He couldn't move while she was awake without driving her nuts, and he'd been purposefully trying to keep his steps quiet. Jacob hadn't liked leaving her alone, but the demand hadn't been entirely unexpected.

He shot the agent a withering look. At least he'd tried to be nice. Liz had told him above all to play nice with Ressler that night. Keep the snark to a minimum, try not to ruffle feathers. Now that he thought about it, she'd been very specific about it, and why she would have chosen Donald Ressler of all people if she just wanted him out of the apartment didn't make sense. There was no love lost between the two men, so there must have been another reason Liz wanted him there specifically and hadn't called someone like Aram or just sent him out in his own. She hadn't been forthcoming about that, of course, so it must have been something that she wasn't sure Ressler wanted her to know about. Interesting.

"Still staring," Ressler grumbled.

"I don't think you're here to babysit me. Liz knows I'm perfectly capable of going and grabbing a drink by myself-"

"And not doing something stupid and getting yourself arrested or shot? Okay then."

Jacob rolled his eyes. "-so I think there's a reason she wanted _you_ out tonight."

"Why on earth would she send you?"

"Because she's sick and she told me to play nice." Jacob sat back, studying the other man. "So what is so special about today that with a 102 fever Liz is worrying about you enough to lie to me to get you out and about?"

"Nothing. It's a Friday and you were driving her nuts. Just accept that it was your fault and move on."

Jacob snorted. "It has to be something big or she would have just told me. So it's your secret. C'mon, man, I promise not to poke too much fun."

Ressler turned a glare on him that made the younger man wish he were armed. He didn't think a bar brawl with Donald Ressler was what Liz had in mind. "Drop it," he growled.

"Something about your dad's death?" Jacob ventured a guess and Ressler looked ready to hit him.

He stood from his barstool, expression tight. "What the hell is with you, pal, that you seem to think it's a good life choice for you to push every button you can find? This is why people shoot you."

Jacob didn't blink from his place, but instead sat very still. He started to open his mouth to respond, but realized that Ressler's gaze had shifted behind him, and he turned in his seat to follow it. In the corner of the bar sat the familiar figure of Harold Cooper. He was alone, a glass of amber liquor in front of him, and looked like he had been there longer than either of them. How Jacob had missed seeing him when he came in, he had no idea.

Ressler frowned. "He doesn't look good."

"Looks like a guy that's had a rough few months," Jacob agreed. He hadn't spoken to Cooper directly since they had cleared Liz's name, but he had seen enough of how he had handled Charlene's secret to connect the dots. Things hadn't gone well, and somehow, that left Jacob with a strange sinking feeling he couldn't quite place. There was no reason he should be bothered by Harold Cooper's personal marriage crisis, yet he felt it tugging at him. He really had picked up a few more connections than he was used to.

"What are you doing?" Ressler demanded.

"Buying the man a round. He looks like he could use it. That, and drunk and sad Cooper will still be better company than you."

He didn't wait for Ressler to argue with him as he started for the table. He'd be along soon anyway, if for no other reason than he'd be afraid that Jacob would pry national secrets from his intoxicated boss. Jacob grabbed two whiskies neat and set one down in front of the newly emptied glass Cooper was staring at. "You looked like you could use a follow up."

Cooper looked up sluggishly and it took a second for his expression to change, almost like it was on a time delay. Alright, maybe another drink hadn't been the best idea. "Tom. What are you doing here? Doesn't Liz have the flu?"

"She kicked him out for the evening so she could rest," Ressler answered for him over his shoulder.

"Yeah, apparently she's working under the delusion that alcohol is going to make us more amiable," Jacob chuckled as he motioned between himself and his fiancé's former partner.

That pulled a short chuckle from Cooper. "She's looking for stability between the people she cares about. Can you blame her?"

Ressler snorted. "Yeah," he answered, the word drenched in sarcasm and Jacob had to work not to roll his eyes. "Well, we don't want to interrupt, sir-"

"You're not," Cooper said instantly before appearing as if he caught himself on the slightly desperate tone. "You're not. I'm just finishing up here. Needed some… air."

Jacob winced a little at his tone. "Sucks man. I'm sorry."

Cooper offered a shrug. "It is what it is. She made her choices and I'm making mine."

"Doesn't make it any easier," Jacob answered as he sipped on his drink.

"Guess you've been there."

Jacob chuckled, the sound a little forced even to his own ears. "Yeah, well, I'll tell you secrets will tank a marriage." He felt Ressler's gaze swivel around to him, questioning, but it wasn't his secret to tell, so Jacob kept his gaze locked on Cooper.

The older man gave a thin smile. "And honesty fixes everything?" he asked, his tone a little bitter. He glanced over at Ressler. "Charlene cheated."

Ressler blinked hard as if he were a little surprised Cooper had offered the personal information so openly before catching the waitess' attention and motioning for the tabs.

"In my experience it's pretty damn painful when it all comes out," Jacob answered the flippant retort seriously. "But it can make you stronger if you're both stubborn enough to fight for it."

The waitress set the bills down in front of them and Ressler grabbed for Cooper's. "Sir, why don't we call you a cab? Where are you staying?"

"I'm fine, Agent Ressler. My car's in the parking lot. No need to-" He had been in the process of standing when he just toppled. Both Ressler and Jacob jumped and between them they managed to keep him from smacking his head on the way down or hitting the floor.

"Keys," Jacob said firmly and found Ressler shooting him a funny look. "What? He's not my boss. I don't care if he says no."

"Jacket pocket," Cooper mumbled and Ressler reached around for the jacket hanging on the back of the chair he had nearly toppled.

"Got them. Sir, where are we taking you?"

Cooper mumbled something, but they weren't going to get anything from him. Jacob huffed. Well, at least his night wasn't boring. "Let's get him to the car and see what we can find. Worst case is we take him home."

Ressler looked like he might argue for a second but then thought better of it. After getting their cards back they maneuvered Cooper out to the parking lot and found his car. He was already dozing by the time they got him loaded into the back seat and Jacob slipped into the front, checking the visor, glove compartment, and GPS maps system for any signs of where he'd been staying.

"So, master spy, where are we taking him?"

"Home, I guess. The Assistant Director of Counter Terrorism can cover his tracks pretty well."

"We should call Charlene first. It's late and-"

Jacob waved a hand in his direction and started buckling himself into the driver's seat. "Be my guest."

"Oh no you don't. Out. I'm driving."

"I hear you like to crash cars. No thank you. I told Liz is come back in one piece and that's a promise I intend to keep."

"First one yet?" Ressler snapped.

Jacob snorted. "I've kept a few." He waited until Ressler had circled the car and begrudgingly gotten into the passenger's seat. "Listen, this might work better if we just agree that neither of us know or care to know about the other one, okay? You don't know a damn thing about where Liz and I are because it's between us, so don't pretend you do. You can keep your judgements to yourself."

"Hit a nerve?" Ressler asked as he pulled Cooper's phone to his ear. "Hi? Charlene? Don Ressler. I'm sorry to call you so late, but, uh, Tom Keen and I - long story - ran into Agent Cooper at a sports bar this evening. He's… Okay. Yeah. Will do, thank you." He ended the call. "She said bring him there."

"Yep," Jacob answered tightly.

They drove in silence, neither man bothering with the other. When they got to Cooper's house they moved, only speaking when they had to to get him out and to the front door. Charlene met them there, looking tired and stressed. They helped her get her husband upstairs and to bed, Cooper never really waking, and she asked them to wait in the kitchen, offering newly steeped tea and cookies as a bribe that wasn't really needed.

Jacob leaned against the island, mug of tea steaming in front of him, and he was pushing down the irritation that normally would have rolled right off of him. He didn't know what was wrong with him tonight. He didn't care what Donald Ressler thought about him. The Boy Scout's opinion meant nothing. All he needed was Liz's approval. Hers was the only one that mattered.

"It's the anniversary of Audrey's death. Liz always drags me out of the office or my apartment for drinks. I guess she thinks I shouldn't be alone."

The former operative looked over, startled out of his brooding. He found Ressler watching him, hands wrapped around his own mug. "You asked why Liz sent you. I guess that because she's sick, you were the one she trusted to get my mind off of it, even if she didn't trust you not to be an ass." He chuckled mirthlessly. "I hate that. It's easier to hate you if I don't have to look too deep. And I _should_ hate you, you know. Liz is… she deserves so much better than you."

Jacob studied him, letting the words sink in slowly. "I know that," he answered softly after a moment. "You think I don't know that?"

"I don't get you. You're a complete ass, but then, sometimes, you actually act like you know how to be a human being, not just fake it. Tonight, you didn't have to give Cooper that kind of encouragement, but you did. It didn't get you anything." He paused, his gaze steady on Jacob. "Neither did talking me down from killing Solomon. Why?"

Jacob shrugged. "Just did," he said tightly.

"See, and there you go again. I don't get you and I can't quite tell if the moments of humanity are an act or if the super spy thing is. I kind of think you may not even know."

"What's your point, Boy Scout?"

"That you may be a lot easier to hate when you're an ass, but if those rare moments are what Liz sees all the time… I just hope you're not fooling her again."

"Why? There a threat there?" Jacob popped off.

"Yes. I _will_ put a bullet in you that you won't come back from if you hurt my partner again."

There was something in Ressler's eyes that kept Jacob from questioning the sincerity. He blinked slowly, forcing back his usual defenses, and spoke as honestly as he knew how. "I will never intentionally hurt Liz again. I love her."

"Thank you, guys, for all your help," Charlene said as she entered the kitchen and effectively eased the tension. "I would… appreciate if this stays between us?"

"I think we can manage that," Jacob answered. "How's he doing?"

"Sleeping." She forced a smile. "I hear you and Liz got some amazing news. Congratulations."

Jacob didn't push the subject of Harold Cooper with the man's wife, but instead offered her a smile of his own. "Yeah, we're pretty excited. Not _exactly_ planned, but hey…"

"Just the next big adventure. Probably time for you two to slow down anyway."

His smile broadened into a grin. "I sure hope so. At least a little."

"I'll get you two a cab back to where you left your cars. Thank you again. Both of you."

She turned and Ressler shot a disbelieving look in Jacob's direction. "When did you get chummy with Cooper's wife?"

"While I was keeping her from getting shot by the Cabal," the dark haired man answered with a shrug. "Listen, I get that you're worried about Liz. I even get why, but what I told Cooper earlier… I meant it. Fighting for it can make two people stronger."

Ressler shook his head, chuckling. "I don't get you."

"That's fine."

"But I should trust you?"

"That's up to you. Love me or hate me, but don't take it out on Liz. She won't say it, but it's driving her nuts that you two don't talk like you used to."

Ressler gave him a funny look. "I'm not-"

"I don't know if you are or aren't, I'm just telling you. Call it an olive branch and don't knock it, Boy Scout."

The other man chuckled. "Alright."

"Thank you. Damn you're stubborn."

"And you're not?"

"Fair."

Ressler offered the smallest of smiles. "Well, you can tell Liz you did manage to distract me if nothing else."

"Tell Liz I'd love to see her," Charlene said as she passed back through the room.

"I will. She has the flu right now, but I'll check with her after she's feeling better." Jacob offered her a half smile. "Best of luck. Really."

"Well, at least he'll have to talk to me now," Charlene said softly. "Cab's waiting."

The night had not been what Jacob expected, but it had been interesting if nothing else. By the time he got back to the apartment, took Hudson out, and finally crawled into bed it was nearly three in the morning.

"How was Ress tonight?" his fiancé asked drowsily.

"Stubborn," Jacob murmured, pulling the covers up around his shoulders and feeling Hudson settle at their feet.

"You two best friends now?" Liz teased.

"We didn't kill each other. Does that count?"

"For you two it's a good start."

He chuckled, scooting a little closer. "Why do you want us to get along so badly?"

"Because in a way, you're both a lot alike." Jacob snorted and she turned to glare at him in the dark. "Let me finish? Both of you build up what others see on a day to day basis and you don't let many in to see past that. He's the perfect agent, you're the perfect spy. Some of it's real, some of it's a show to protect yourselves. I just happen to know you both well enough to see past it."

"Sometimes I forget I married a shrink," he teased and Liz sat up, lobbing a pillow at his face. He grinned up at her. "Are you saying we should just give each other a chance?"

"You're both really important to me, so yeah. I am. Anyway, it's not like you and Red will ever get there, so I'll take what I can get."

"Glad to see you're being realistic about this."

He took another hit from the pillow for the joke before she laid back down. "Admit it."

Jacob sighed, making a show of rolling his eyes. "Fine. Donald Ressler isn't a _complete_ dick."

"Close enough. Look at that. We're getting somewhere."

He chuckled and reached out for her, his hand finding hers. "Baby steps," he reminded her, but she was already drifting off again, a smile touching her expression. He didn't see it, but if putting up with Donald Ressler made her smile, he would do it. The fact that he found himself less opposed to the idea than he might have once been was something that he would never admit out loud.

* * *

Notes: I know I haven't updated this little series in forever. The show gave us that one lovely Tessler piece and then... nothing. It's kind of sad. I still love my boys, though, and so does Lizzie, so this little plot bunny bit and I ran with it. Like Jake said: baby steps. First they have to tolerate each other without threats.


	5. Worse Things

Notes: So this little story was sparked by conversation between AlyB123 (on FFN)/ AlyBlacklist over on Tumblr after 3.14 when Tom/Jacob came tumbling through that window and we got a kick out of the idea of what would have happened if he'd gone to Ressler's place instead of a stranger's. The plot bunny wouldn't leave me alone, so I jotted down the story. I hadn't posted it yet because she said that she was working on her version as well and I wanted to make sure she was able to put it up first. I really recommend popping over to her FFN account and checking it out. It's called Intervention.

Anyway, I had a friend of mine read this and she has been pushing me to go ahead and post it anyway, so here we go. Because the plot bunny wouldn't let go :P

* * *

 **Worse Things**

It was amazing how little security a building like Ressler's had. Jacob didn't need a mirror to know he looked like hell. His hands were trembling as he worked the makeshift lock pick into the keyhole, the blood on his fingers making it slick and he dropped it twice, nearly falling himself the second time he bent to pick it up and the world spun dangerously.

The lock finally clicked and he fumbled to get the door open and slipped inside. He had actually passed an apartment with a window open on the way there. He should have just gotten in and done what he could to patch himself up there, but something had taken him to Donald Ressler's place. It was stupid. The man wasn't his biggest fan, but he did think that the Boy Scout was more likely to have a decent medical kit and maybe at least marginally less likely to call the cops on him for breaking and entering.

Jacob barely got the door closed behind him before his right leg buckled under him, the bullet moving around inside it bringing him to the ground hard. Well, if Ressler was home, it wouldn't take him long to hear that. He waited there, doing his best to keep his eyes open and pull together the strength he would need to get to his feet again. First he needed water. He was bleeding out, and dehydration was something he could fight against fairly easily. Water, then something to dig the bullet out. He wondered if Ressler still kept a stash of painkillers somewhere. Supposedly he was clean these days, but everyone had secrets.

Slowly, painfully, he worked himself back up to his feet and stumbled to dig through the cabinets and find what he needed. Scissors to cut through the duct tape he had fastened around his injuries to try to stem the blood flow, one of the stronger bottles of liquor Ressler kept at his bar, and finally he limped his way into the bathroom and slumped down hard once he found the first aid kit. The room was spinning and tilting by that point, but he knocked back a couple of over the counter painkillers and took a shot of the whisky he had grabbed. He set the bottle down on the floor and leaned back against the bathtub, grimacing hard as he started to struggle out of his jacket.

His breathing was hitched and his hands were trembling so badly he wasn't sure he could do what needed to be done. Slowly, though, he started cutting through the tape and ripped his blood soaked jeans a little wider opened at the point where the bullet had torn them and his leg up. He was reaching for the first aid kit when he heard the sound of the door swinging open outside the bathroom. Well, it looked like Ressler was home. At least he hoped it was Ressler. That would really suck if the guy had some girlfriend or something that Jacob didn't know about.

It couldn't have been hard to follow the trail of blood, and just a few moments later the FBI agent rounded the corner with his gun drawn. Blue eyes widened a little in recognition. "Tom? What the hell?" he managed.

"I've had a bad day," the former operative managed. "And have been shot at enough. Could you not add to it?"

Ressler lowered the gun slowly and looked around. He wasn't stupid, no matter how much Jacob may have mocked him for it. "How bad?" he asked, pulling out a cell phone from his pocket.

"No," Jacob breathed. "No hospitals. I just… need to...to get the bullet out. Can you switch the light on?"

Ressler looked at him like he was insane but did it anyway. "Damn," he breathed. "What happened?"

"Trusted the wrong person," Jacob managed and he heard the other man snort.

"And you gave me hell over who I trusted? My guess is that you _knew_ you weren't doing the right thing."

"I was doing what I had to," Jacob snapped, finally reaching for the tweezers as Ressler closed the toilet lid and took a seat on it. He was silent as the dark haired man steeled himself to start digging around for the bullet. Blood poured fresh from the wound and he squeezed his eyes shut, the end of the tweezers finding something more solid and latching on. He loosed the breath he hadn't known he was holding as the tweezers dropped from his hand.

He hadn't seen or heard Ressler move, but suddenly he was knelt down next to him, a clean rag in hand and pouring antiseptic on it. "This is going to hurt," he warned and pressed it against his leg.

Jacob yelped, and if he had been anywhere near unconsciousness, he was pulled back instantly. He reared back, barely stopping before he slammed too hard into the tub behind him. "Ow."

"With the cocktail in your system I figured you weren't feeling a lot. You leave me any whiskey?"

Dark blue eyes narrowed in a dangerous glare. "Yeah, keep cracking the jokes as I bleed out over here, funny man. Don't guess you have some of your old stash hidden around here somewhere? Legitimate painkillers work a lot better." He leaned back hard, thumping against the tub and finally cracked an eye open when he didn't receive a jab back in return.

"Get out."

"Huh?"

"You show up here after getting into some kind of trouble, bleeding all over my floor and expecting me _not_ to call the paramedics so that it doesn't get logged into the system that someone shot you, and that's where you want to go?" He snorted and stood. "Get out of my apartment or I'll call the cops and just have them arrest you for a B &E."

Jacob's temper boiled. It had been a while since things had gone quite this wrong, and the last thing he had patience for was Donald Ressler and his holier than thou attitude. "Listen, man, you have no idea what's going on, so it wouldn't kill you to can some of your almighty judgment, okay? I'm going." He started to try to get up, but barely got started before his body gave, dropping him back to the floor and pulling a pained sound out of him.

Ressler was fuming as he stood over Jacob now. "You're really something else. Liz is pregnant with your kid and you're still off playing spy. You better pick a side, Keen, because if you don't she's the one that's going to get hurt. Her and that kid."

Jacob stared at him, his anger subsiding a little, and he was not sure if the sinking feeling was due to the words or the blood loss. Probably both. Ressler wasn't wrong, and Jacob hated that. It was something he had been doing his best to push back to the back of his mind since he saw the guns come up and he didn't find cover quite quick enough. For anything worthwhile there was sacrifice, and he had thought his last job with Gina was that. One last risk to set he, Liz, and their child for life. It had seemed worth it, but now as he sat on the cool tile of Donald Ressler's bathroom, his blood everywhere but where it should be, he knew how stupid it had been. Given that or the impossible fight against Reddington, though, he wasn't sure what the better alternative would have been. All he'd wanted to do was protect them.

"Hey?" Ressler called gruffly, nudging him and Jacob groaned. "Don't die on my floor."

"Trying not to," he managed, realizing that his eyes had drifted closed while he'd been turning Ressler's words over. "Listen, I just need… need to slow the bleeding and I'll leave. I'll be out of your hair."

"And take whatever trouble you're in to Liz's doorstep?"

"No… I'll call her and tell her I'll be a few more days. This'll blow over pretty fast. I just…"

Jacob hadn't realized he was tilting until he felt Ressler pulling him back upright. "Damn. Listen, you've got to get to a hospital. You're not going to make it if you don't."

The dark haired man snorted. "Would've thought that you'd think that was better."

The expression Ressler wore was one that Jacob wasn't accustomed to. "I lost my dad. I don't wish that on Liz's kid. Even if that dad is you." He swallowed hard and his focus was behind him rather than on him. "You can be a decent human being, you just choose not to most of the time. Or maybe it's a habit for you not to be. I don't know. The point is, you gained nothing from talking me down from killing Solomon, and you did it anyway."

"You'd've regretted it," Jacob managed drowsily.

"Exactly. That didn't do anything for you. It was… You _can_ be decent. If you could just keep doing stuff like that, and not stuff like _this_ -" he motioned to the blood everywhere - "maybe that kid has a chance at knowing their dad… and maybe if their dad deserving to know them."

Jacob looked up at his ex wife's partner, the pain and blood loss loosening his tongue. "She's… Liz is thinking of giving the kid up. I just wanted… a way out for us. Reddington's shutting down my job opportunities and I thought Gina could-"

"Gina? Stop. Right now. I don't _want_ to know. Damn you're stupid."

Jacob snorted a soft laugh. "Yeah. Maybe. Probably. I just don't know what to do now." He sighed, feeling a little like he was floating. "Just want them safe."

Ressler pulled in a breath and Jacob felt his hand on his uninjured shoulder, gently pulling him back around. "First things first. We get you to a doctor and then… Whatever you pulled on out at the cabin - that part of you that's the one time I haven't wanted to break your face? - you figure out what that is and do that."

"She's going to be so pissed at me."

"Liz? Yeah, and she should be."

"I know." His gaze drifted up to meet Ressler's. "I really do love her."

The federal agent snorted. "She sure seems to think so. For her sake, I hope you do." He pulled out his cell phone and dialed, giving the address for what Jacob assumed was an ambulance. It looked like it was time to start coming up with a story on what happened. He just hoped he remembered it when he woke up.

"Tom? Dammit, Tom. Don't pass out. Hey?" Jacob could feel Ressler shaking him, but there was a strange sort of disconnect. He knew it was happening, but it felt so far away. "Think about Liz. About your kid. Selfish idiot, don't you dare make me explain to her that you're dead. Don't you _dare_ hurt her again."

Jacob struggled to open his eyes, but he had already slipped too far. He wasn't sure why he had chosen to trust Ressler, and once he was feeling better he was sure he'd never admit to it, but he was glad he did. As he slipped, Ressler lobbing idle threats his way to try to rouse him, he hoped that he hadn't ruined everything.

* * *

The man had as many lives as a damn cat. Donald Ressler was about sure of that as he stood at the doorway of the hospital room where Tom Keen was sleeping. Liz sat in a chair, her hand holding his and she looked like she had been up all night with him. Ressler had weighed the decision back and forth on if he should let her know or not, and had finally decided that she would find out anyway and it was better if it came from him. They had been in a strange sort of no-man's land since she had been released and even if he couldn't quite bring himself to say it, her friendship meant everything to him and she deserved a friend in her corner after everything she had been through. He couldn't say he supported hers and Tom's… whatever it was they called what they were doing, because _relationship_ seemed like too simple of a term for those two, but he could stand beside her and make sure that, at least if she got hurt, it wouldn't be because Donald Ressler hadn't given it his all to protect her. Anyway, she deserved to know that the father of her child was in the hospital.

"Hey. How long have you been standing there?"

He glanced over, torn from his thoughts, and offered her a shrug. "Just a minute. You look like you could use a break."

"I don't want to leave him alone," she murmured and Ressler watched her expression tighten in worry.

"I've got this. He can't be any more trouble than he was when he showed up bleeding all over my apartment. This is the easy part."

She managed a smile for the tease. "Thank you, Ress," she said as she stood, but she paused, and on what looked like impulse reached out and squeezed his hand. "For everything. Thank you."

"Yeah," he answered awkwardly and tried for a smile of his own. "I'll call you if anything changes. Take your time."

He watched her walk out of the room, slow and a little stiff, only encouraging the theory that she'd been there for a long while. He took the seat she had vacated and looked at the man that had been married to her. Funny, but it seemed like a lifetime ago that Liz had been bugging him to come over and have dinner at their townhouse, going on and on about how Tom didn't understand how to cook small portions and there was always more than enough any time he wanted to drop by… Even then he hadn't liked him. He hadn't been sure why, but now he knew. At least now things made more sense.

Blue eyes slid slowly open, the glazed look in them showing just how heavily medicated the dark haired man was and they flickered over to look at Ressler. Confusion passed through them, as if his mind was having trouble working through the fog of painkillers.

"You're in the hospital, and as soon as you get out you owe me for whatever it's going to cost to scrub your blood off my floor," Ressler said by way of greeting.

Tom shifted, wincing as he did. "Liz?" he asked, voice rough.

"She looked like she could use a few minutes to stretch her legs, so I offered to sit in."

He nodded slowly. "You going to arrest me?"

"Do I have a reason to?"

"No."

Ressler was pretty sure that was a lie, but he let it slide. "You look like hell. How're you feeling?"

"Like hell," Tom managed. "I guess I should thank you for getting me here?"

"Normal people do say thank you when someone saves their life, yeah."

"Is that what normal people do? I never knew."

Ressler rolled his eyes. "Well, near death experiences don't seem to have an affect on your sarcasm."

"Part of my charm," Tom chuckled, settling deeper into his pillows and his eyes fluttered so they were nearly closed. Ressler thought he might have drifted off again until he spoke, the words so soft that he almost missed them. "Thank you."

The FBI agent shifted awkwardly in his chair, the serious tone not something he had really expected. It was easier for both men to lob insults, to keep that barrier of distrust firmly between them. Otherwise he might see something in Tom Keen like he had at the cabin. He might see the human somehow working his way out of the layers of lies and deceit that he'd put on himself during years as a covert operative, and Ressler wasn't sure he was ready for that. He hadn't decided if he thought the man _could_ change after so long, much less that he was.

He found Tom's hazy gaze fixed on him and he pursed his lips together. "Yeah, well," he answered awkwardly, "I wasn't just going to let you bleed out. Guess it's just those damn principles of mine."

Tom snorted a laugh. "Who knew, right? Seriously, though. You could have called the cops or arrested me yourself, but you didn't. Thanks."

"I don't know exactly what mess you've gotten yourself into, Tom, but… Liz deserves to know. She deserves all the facts so she can make the best decision she can for her and that kid. You owe her that."

"I know." He grimaced, looking like he was fighting the medication trying to drag him back to sleep.

Ressler sighed. "Stop fighting it. Your body needs to heal."

He received only the barest of nods as Tom seemed to drift back to sleep and Ressler shook his head. After everything, he didn't think he could ever fully support the idea of Liz and Tom together, but if he wasn't careful, his partner's ex husband was going to start looking like a man struggling to do better than the dangerous ex-assassin that Ressler knew him to be. It was harder to see him that way after the last twenty-four hours or so.

"Hey, any change?" Liz asked as she walked in, a coffee in either hand. She handed one to him.

"Thanks. He woke up for a few minutes, but he's back out."

"He's been doing that."

"Starting to worry about your ex, Liz. He actually thanked me for saving his life," Ressler tried for a teasing remark and, thankfully, received the smile from her that he had been aiming for.

"He's drugged. I think it makes him a little more honest."

Ressler snorted and stood so she could have her seat back. She took it readily and sipped on what he hoped was decaf coffee, her gaze seeking his out. "I think he respects you more than he'll ever admit. He told me what happened out at the cabin and I know he went to you at first to try to get your help when I was on the run. He… I think Tom has been playing so many parts for so long that he has trouble knowing exactly who he can trust with things that really matter. This whole fiasco isn't going to help with that, but… he went to you when he needed help. That says a lot."

"So what now? We become BFF's?" Ressler grumbled, the sarcasm drenching each word.

Liz rolled her eyes. "I doubt either of you could put your pride aside enough for that, but… he could use a friend like you. You know, a decent guy that's not going to get him shot."

"You're serious?"

She shrugged and turned her gaze back on her sleeping ex-husband. "If he really wants to be better, he has to start making changes somewhere."

"I think you're putting too much faith in him."

"I just know him a little better than you do," Liz offered with a small smile.

In the bed, Tom started to stir again and Ressler loosed a breath. "I'll give you guys some time. Just… Be careful, alright, Liz? The last thing I want to see is you to get hurt again."

Liz watched him for a long moment. "I will be. Careful, I mean."

He gave a firm nod, feeling the moment linger awkwardly. "And get some rest. It's bad for the baby if you're up all night worrying. He'll be fine. He's too stubborn to die anyway." He didn't wait for her to respond, but heard her laugh follow him out the door. He would watch her back, because that's what partners and friends did, and if that somehow turned into some bizarre friendship with her ex… Well, he supposed things could turn out a lot worse.


End file.
